Death, Thou Shalt Die
by dark haired angel
Summary: Five years after the death of Voldemort, Hermione is in America investigating new Death Eater activty. There, she runs into someone she didn't expect...though really, she probably should have..
1. In Which the Story Commences

:::cracks knuckles::: I guess I should just dive right in. It's my first story; I must admit I'm a bit nervous. :::sticks in toe::: well here goes nada. ::: jumps:::

**Disclaimer thingamajig**- **A**. I'm not J. K. I'm also not pretending to be her cause then I wouldn't be writing this since they don't allow computers in padded rooms. **Therefore B**. I don't own anything to do with the Harry Potter universe, as much as I wish I did. **However C.** I do believe the plot and any characters I choose to create are mine, but if you ask nicely or give me credit I'll let you play too. Cause I'm cool like that.** In Summary D. **Don't sue me, I don't mean anything by this and I am so poor if you did try I would probably be repaying you for the next twenty years. 

Chapter One – In Which the Story Commences 

Hermione stared pensively into her cup of coffee as she sat at one of the Toil and Truffle's outside tables. 

_Damnit, _she thought to herself, _I should have gotten some tea. Then I could have amused myself by pretending to be Trelawney, the old daft bint._

With a sigh, she sat her cup down and looked around at this particular section of wizarding Boston. People were out enjoying the warm September sun with their friends and families, while patronizing the various little shops that lined the street. The sounds of excited chattering and laughter flowed around Hermione as she absorbed the scene. 

If only they knew. Well, as far as that's concerned I don't know that much either. If I don't find a lead soon there will be a Dark Mark up my arse before I find the bloody bastards. And you can't rid the world of evil if you're dead

It was as if the Death Eaters had in fact consumed that particular trait of mortality. They just wouldn't give up. The second war had been fought and won, with Voldemort and his bootlickers being appropriately trounced by the forces of good a la Harry Potter. _Ding-dong the Dark Lord is dead, and his little lap dogs too_.

So why, in the name of Merlin's bowling shoes, am I in America trying to confirm orchestrated Death Eater activity? Merlin you really hate me don't you? Don't answer that, you git.

After the war on the eve of their graduation from Hogwarts, Hermione, Harry and Ron had all joined the Ministry as Aurors. Unfortunately, policing the magical world wasn't challenging enough for Hermione, so she became a free-lance potions expert, often returning to work with the Ministry of Magic.

At least, that's what most people thought.

She was really part of an upper echelon of Aurors called the Patroni. The name taken from the Patronus spell, these witches and wizards worked as undercover operatives for the Ministry, and were considered the best line of defense for magical and nonmagical people alike. Well, those that knew about them thought so. These were some of the best and brightest of the wizarding world, both the active agents and the Dextrians, their version of Q from the muggle James Bond films.

And Hermione was the best of the best, which is why she was given this particular assignment. 

_Hrmph, they would have done better to give this to Ron for all that I'm getting accomplished_. 

Up until four months ago, there had been a few attacks by Death Eaters that somehow managed to escape the war. Those had been careless and sloppy and normally resulted in either the intended victim, if it was a magical being, or someone nearby, if the victim was a muggle, managing to hex the stupid prat seven ways from Tuesday. There was actually one incident where a ninety two year old muggle knocked out a Death Eater with a frying pan while he had his wand pointed at her. Needless to say the once feared band of masked Dark Lord followers did not strike the same note into the hearts of men as they once did.

And then something completely different happened.

When news broke about that first attack four months ago the Aurors investigating concluded that it was a new group, since it was a different style than anything the Death Eaters had ever tried. 

But then a few worried whispers started circulating in the Auror halls of the Ministry of Magic. 

People began to realize just how well organized the attack had been. No one could find any clues leading to a capture. If it weren't for the gruesome manner in which the muggles had died, one could almost assume they had simply succumbed from natural causes.

People still didn't think it was the doing of the Death Eaters, they had become more of a joke really, but after the second attack they were forced to rethink that opinion. 

The Ministry called in the Patroni and Dextrians to examine the scene of the second attack. It was such a little thing that it was easy to see how they had missed it the first time. They would have missed it the second time too, if it weren't for the fact that one of the victim's bright green eyes reminded Hermione so much of Harry that she simply stopped working to look into the young girl's lifeless eyes.

And that's when she noticed it. The Dark Mark, which had hung above scenes of devastation years before, now floated faintly in the girl's irises. She quickly moved to another body, and sure enough there, barely discernable from the dark brown, were two more identical Dark Marks. 

That was the confirmation they needed. The Death Eaters were back, and unfortunately, seemed to be stronger than ever. 

Which brought Hermione to sitting in front of a café, in America, wishing that for once and for all the combined lot of the Death Eaters and whoever the hell was calling the shots these days would kindly go drown themselves in a lake. 

_It would only be the proper thing to do,_ she smirked to herself. Along with the Americans taking care of problems that happen on their soil instead of making her do it. But she knew why she was here: the last few solitary attacks had taken place on American soil, in and around Boston and Salem, hence why she was here instead of the Leaky Cauldron; and she was the best Auror on both sides of the pond with the most experience with Death Eaters and their charming ways. Even though they seemed to be dancing to a different tune, it was an undeniable edge. 

_However it doesn't matter if it doesn't help!! To come all this way to be outsmarted by a pack of ---- Hold on. No. It can't be_.

Hermione's eyes focused on a head of white blond making its way down the street. She couldn't help but let a small gasp escape her lips as the figure drew nearer.

_What in the fucking ninth layer of hell is Malfoy doing here?!?_

AN: Well there it is! My first chapter of my first fan-fiction. I'm not going to demand reviews or I won't post, but I would certainly appreciate any advice you give! Oh the title is from a poem by John Donne, one of his holy sonnets. I'll try to get another chapter out with in the week, but I do have finals so it may wait until I after I get home. Anyhoo I hope you enjoyed it!

I would also like to thank **Compellingold** for helping me with my html difficulties and as thanks you should go check out her work! Thanks also to **FoxyChic4u** and **ali potter** for being my first two reviews and making me oh so happy!


	2. In Which a Hag is Mentioned

That thing I do: so I don't get sued. Anything that looks familiar ain't mine. Anything that doesn't ain't theirs. (Okay I just really like to use ain't… sue me... wait no. please don't! I was kidding!!!)

**Chapter 2 – In Which A Hag is Mentioned**

****

_'Merlin maybe you don't hate me after all'._ Hermione continued to observe Draco as she quickly paid for her drink and gathered her things together. As she stood just in front of the café, surreptitiously examining him under the secrecy of her sunglasses she pondered her next move. 

_'That is him all right. Who could forget the face of a handsome devil like Malfoy? If only he wasn't such an loathsome prat.' _

Draco seemed to be approaching his destination, and Hermione had to make a decision as to what her next move would be. Draco had somehow managed to escape the war unscathed; no one knew if he had actually participated, so he was allowed to go, much to the anger of several members of the Order of the Phoenix. His father was safely locked away in Azkaban and everyone agreed if they were only going to get one Malfoy, Lucius was the one they wanted.

There was a chance that Draco was the crucial link to this current death spree. There was also a chance that he didn't know anything about the new Death Eater activity. 

_'There is also a chance that he is a tutu-wearing ferret drag queen in his free time, but I think I should follow him anyway._' All Hermione needed now was a chance to observe him on a more frequent basis. Maybe if she could find out where he worked, or—'_ooo! Merlin I owe you a new pair of bowling shoes mate._'

Hermione nonchalantly followed Draco into the realtors he had just walked into: it was The Gilded Compass, which had apparently been 'Pointing Witches and Wizards to Homes and Hovels Since 1653.' This was going to be tricky. Malfoy could be doing a whole host of different things in the realtor office.

_'I'll just have to keep on my toes. If all else fails, I'll just pull an Uric the Oddball. Spoonful of crazy makes the medicine go down, and allows the witch in a sticky situation to get away._' With a calm expression, Hermione followed Draco in to the office.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Draco opened the door and strolled into the Compass office with all the intensity and finesse of a panther stalking prey. The loud "Mr. Malfoy!" which greeted him and rendered him temporarily deaf, distracted him from noticing the door had opened again shortly after he entered the room. Once his eyes had acclimated to the dark interior of the room, his gaze was forced upon a sight that left him momentarily dumb and praying for blindness to save him from having to look at the foul creature before him.

The hag that had addressed him from behind the desk was Madam TwoWarts, but Draco reasoned she had miscounted by at least half a dozen. With an inner groan, Draco prepared to get this done and over with before her habitual flirting with him made him lose his will to live. While the hag was ugly as the bad end of a Blast-Ended Skrewt and as annoying as prissy Potter, she was a shrewd businesswoman and knew how to turn a profit for both herself and the landlords she dealt with.

"What can I do for you today Mr. Malfoy?" simpered TwoWarts, which only succeeded in making her look worse and Draco turn green around the edges.

"I have had an apartment open up in my building." Pansy had finally figured out that Draco had absolutely no intentions of marrying her or even sleeping with her, and in a huff, had moved back to London. She had been gone all of ten minutes before Draco left to alert Madam TwoWarts of the available rooms.

"Well do give me the information, I can't sell it simply based on that."

"Yes, yes," he drawled with barely contained annoyance,_ 'I'd turn her into a bat except I think it would actually improve her appearance. Of course, I could always turn her into Pansy.' _He sighed,_ 'Even I am not that cruel.'_

"It has one bedroom and one bath, a sitting room, however the kitchen is---"

"Excuse me?" said a voice behind him.

Draco turned and glared at the young woman that stood about three feet behind him. 

"I couldn't help but hear that you have an apartment to let, and well it sounds like what I need."

Draco simply continued to appraise the woman without responding to her. She was a nice looking girl of about 5'5" with short black hair and ivory skin. She was dressed casually (Draco couldn't understand why the American magical culture preferred muggle clothing to robes but c'est la vie) in jeans and a t-shirt with blue Chucks, her sunglasses pushed up in her short pixie hair cut. If it hadn't been obvious to him that her clothes were of expensive quality, he would have simply ignored her. As it were, she did seem to have the kind of money that one needed to live in one of Draco's buildings, so he took a step closer to her, forcing her to look up to him.

From this distance he could see that she had eyes the most peculiar shade of indigo.Draco continued to stare down at the girl imperiously, and she simply gazed back with a small smile on her face, unperturbed by the daggers coming from the gray eyes almost six inches above her own. 

"I suppose you would like to see it," he sneered.

"Ooo, that would be lovely!" She replied, pointedly ignoring his rudeness.

_'She's either very brave or very dumb. Hmph, six of one, half a dozen of the other, really. Well business is business, and the sooner I have someone paying rent the sooner I'm making more money.'_

"Well TwoWarts it seems I don't have business with you today," and with that strolled impatiently from the building before the hag could open her mouth.

Once outside Draco turned to the woman beside him, who was now smiling from behind a pair of fashionable sunglasses, and extended a hand to her.

"We will be traveling by Portkey, if that is agreeable to you Miss…" The slight upward journey of one perfectly arched blond eyebrow was the only hint that this is where Hermione was supposed to provide her name.

"Please," she responded, "call me Herms." 

Upon answering, she placed her hand in his, and they vanished in the blink of an eye.

AN: Weeeee! Chapter two is done!! Though to be honest I don't particularly care for it so it may be gutted, let me know what you like so I can keep it in if I do. I currently don't have a beta so if you notice any mistakes please let me know and I'll fix them, and also if you want to beta (please!) leave a review with your email or aim screenname and we'll chat. I know the story is really slow right now but hopefully it will start picking up, just bare with me as I get the hang of this storytelling gig. Or tell me how to improve! 

I also seem to have a problem getting my html to stick. Any advice? I may just stop using it all together. :::shrug::: 


	3. In Which HTML Annoyance Continues

Ve meet again Mister Bond. *cough* I mean.. sorry I've been away, the hols haven't exactly been as calm and relaxing as I would have hoped. But I like to think of this as an opportunity for me to reflect on where this story is going and you to reflect on what you've read and I think we've all reached a very special place. In other words, I've been sweating bullets about where this story is going to be going and you've totally forgotten about it until bam! it shows up on the top of the page like that fourth cousin twice removed trying to cash in on the twenty bucks you inherited from Uncle Larry. What can I say? I get a bit weird around six am… or have I already said that? I tend to repeat myself a lot.

Time for the 'Let's Pretend Game'! Okay boys and goils this is where we pretend that the author of this story wrote an international best seller while in middle school and is currently posting a continuation of her work here on ff.net! Wasn't that fun? Now that we've taken that trip down fantasy aisle five, I'd like to bring us all test dummy crashing back to reality by pointing out I actually don't own Harry Potter nor am I making any money off of this story. However I do think I have some of the longest disclaimers around. I'm sure that counts for something.

Chapter 3 – Where I realize I really am not creative enough to come up with chapter titles since I can't even come up with titles for my journal

Two days later found Hermione enjoying breakfast in the kitchen of her new apartment. Her new apartment in a building that Draco Malfoy owned.

At that moment one of the doors in the kitchen swung open and the blond devil himself stormed in like some fallen angel storming heaven's gates. 

She knew by now he was only looking for coffee.

'My new apartment, in a Malfoy building, which just happens to be adjoined to Malfoy's own apartment. If it weren't for the fact that this allows me more access to The Ferret Demon From Hell than I would normally have, I would be trying to find a decent rabid chihuahua to gag on.'

Unfortunately, it did have a rather upsetting side effect on Hermione's appetite at breakfast. Something about seeing Malfoy that early in the day and that close up didn't leave much room for kippers. 

Hermione observed Draco surreptitiously as he poured himself a half a mug of coffee and drank it black.

'At least he remembered the mug this time,' Hermione snorted to herself. The morning before Draco had forgotten that he was sharing a kitchen with someone else and was pouring black coffee down his throat directly from the pot when he realized he had an audience. It had required all of Hermione's will power not to redecorate the kitchen with a laugh-induced spray of half-chewed eggs after the look of horror and embarrassment on Draco's face.

After draining the half-mug of joe, Draco fixed himself another full mug with two sugars, made some toast and sat down at the table with Hermione and the newspaper.

Hermione decided, or rather "'Herms' Colin" decided, that for the sake of getting to know her neighbor/kitchen-mate better she would have to make the first move.

"Not a morning person, Mr. Malfoy?" So it wasn't Shakespeare, but it wasn't as if she could just say 'So what do the Death Eaters have planned for today? Are you coming back for lunch or will torturing muggles keep you busy until teatime?' 

"A rather astute observation Miss Colin," a rather snarky Draco answered from behind the business section.

Hermione chose to ignore the rather dismissive tone of his reply, and plunged ever onward into conversation. Of course, it was a small bonus that she realized she was probably irritating his, undoubtedly freshly pressed, pants off.

"Oh no, 'Miss Colin' is a 63 year-old spinster that lives next door with fourteen cats. Call me Herms."

Draco slowly lowered the paper with an odd look of disgust and worry on his normally guarded face. 

"Is that your, er, real name?"

"No." Draco looked visibly relieved. "It's Hermia."

Draco once again looked like he had been holding a vomiting niffler. 

"Do you have a problem with my name, Mr. Malfoy?"

A look of hesitance flashed across Draco's face, before he seemed to remember that the world was his goblet of pumpkin juice.

"There was a girl at Hogwarts who was called either Herms or Herm by her friends. We were competitors of sorts, battling over top marks and all that." Satisfied with his explanation, Draco resumed reading the paper and sipping his coffee.

"I'm sure the fact that she slapped you silly also had nothing to do with it."

Hermione watched on with a bemused expression on her face as dark, sodden splotch appeared in the middle of the front page of Draco's newspaper. She did have to give him credit though; he managed to exude his normal composure as he lowered the stained newsprint, despite indications that he had been seriously surprised. Draco considered her for a moment before his eyes narrowed dangerously. 

"Who are you?" he asked, his voice as hard as steel and just as accusing.

Hermione let out a peal of laughter before she responded to him. "You think I'm Granger!" Draco just scowled as Hermione attempted to regain composure.

"Hannah Abbot is a relation of mine, " she stated as she wiped tears from her eyes, "there was a huge family shin-dig that summer and she considered it an exciting bit of gossip."

Hermione kept giggling to herself for a few more moments as Malfoy glared at her.

"It wasn't that funny."

Hermione sobered up immediately. "You're right Mr. Malfoy. It's not nice to make fun of a man who seems to think one of his grade school nemeses is now sharing an apartment with him just to make his life a living hell." 'No, it takes more than that to make me stoop to living with you, though I must admit it is proving to be entertaining.'

"It's not nice to make fun of an old man," Draco sniffed, "you never know when it could give us a heart attack, and then you'd be stuck with a dead body for a next door neighbor."

Hermione nearly fell out of her chair when she realized that Draco was joking with her. 'The bloody git has a sense of humor! That's wrong on so many levels! Minions of evil are supposed to be incapable of pedestrian humor. Next thing you know Ron's going to floo me so we can a discussion about translinear variables in Arithmancy.'

"Mr. Malfoy was that a joke?"

"Only if you call me Draco."

When undergoing both Auror and Patroni training you are taught to learn how to react to unexpected situations. From how to deal with someone pulling a knife on you in a dark alley to how to react naturally when the weirdo transvestite murder suspect invites you back to his place for a game of naked Twister. But this was something that Hermione thought needed a whole class in and of itself: Draco Malfoy being human.

After breakfast, Hermione returned to her rooms, still puzzling over Draco's seemingly normalcy. 

'Must be a ruse,' she pondered as she began warding her Floo, 'probably how he lures women into his pit.'

She dropped all thoughts of Draco as she finished securing her Floo, grabbed some powder off the box on the mantle, and threw the ash-like substance into the flames as she called out "Dex HG."

Almost instantly, a boisterous redhead popped into the green flames.

"Oi love! How are things going Chez Ferret? Do we need to send over some flea powder? Or maybe some of our new 'Flora Fudge?' I'm sure you'd rather share a kitchen with a potted plant than that git."

"Oh Fred, you always make me laugh," Hermione managed to get out while fighting down bouts of the giggles.

"That's what we're here for!" exclaimed one half of the infamous Weasley duo.

While most people only focused on the end result of Fred and George's practical jokes, the Dextrians had seen the brilliance that went into the execution of their pranks. The harmless chocolate that made a person sprout feathers, the snack box that would make you 'conviently' sick; the Dextrians saw the potential of having the twin's amongst their numbers. And to the flame-haired boys credit, many Patroni and Aurors were outfitted with devices created by them, and many a criminal had been apprehended with the aid of said devices.

They also happened to be Hermione's partners. They were her connection with headquarters, and if she got herself into a sticky situation or needed back up and didn't have time to get other Patroni, they would come to her aid.

"Well, I just wanted to let you know that I succeeded in securing the Floo. Are you two going to remain in the same location or will you find some new 'haunts?'"

"Nah, we'll stay here as long as we're in the States. We have a pretty tight cover story since we are actually mixing business with, well, business." The brothers owned and ran Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, which they often used as their excuse when away on Dextrain business.

"I'm sure you can find yourself some pleasure to throw into the mix, eh Fred?" Hermione suggested with a smirk.

"Are you implying something my dear, sweet Hermia?" Fred retorted while wiggling his eyebrows. "But really, I can't seem to find a decent girl that's attracted to me these days! The last girl that seemed interested ended up going home with one-eyed warlock wearing a leather corset. Seeing that man alone has scarred me for life, the fact that the girl I was trying to get together with went home with him has made me doubt my abilities with the fairer sex so much that I'm considering becoming a man of the cloth!"

"Fred," Hermione deadpanned, "the church was a key player in the killing of witches and wizards. I somehow doubt they'd allow you to become a priest."

"I'm sure they would make an exception once I told them my heartbreaking story." he sniffed.

Hermione had opened her mouth to respond when Fred's head had whipped out of the green flames. He was back a few seconds later with a rueful grin on his face.

"Sorry love, but we're going to have to finish this at another time. We've been working on a taffy that makes you rather bouncy and George seems to have gotten stuck in the ceiling."

"You boys are going to kill yourselves with the way you're going. It's just too bad Trelawny isn't here to predict when and how you're going to do it."

"Ha, maybe we'll go ask her, just for the entertainment value. Anyway, be safe, and you know where to find us."

"I will, and remember, you are a wizard, you have a wand, you do not need to consume whatever taffy George ate to go try and get him down."

Fred paused for a moment before realization passed across his face. "Oi! I do believe you're right. What would I do without you Herms?"

"Get your head stuck right next to George's." And with that Hermione broke the connection.

She sat down on the sofa, gazing absentmindedly into the fire, as she thought about what Fred had told her. Thinking about the boy's horrible luck with women reminded her of Draco. 'I wonder if he has problems with women. Not like he'd ever tell me.'

Hermione's eyes grew wide with sudden inspiration.

She needed an in with Draco Malfoy and she had just found her key to the supposed Prince of the Death Eaters. 

She smiled as she sat back; this was going to be like taking candy from a flobberworm, though really, why would someone give a flobberworm candy in the first place?


End file.
